Archive: February, 2002

There are probably a hundred cheeseball movies you can think of that end in that "afterglow" moment, the moment where some kind of event is over, and you were a part of it among other people you like to be around. I've come to the conclusion that we don't get to have enough of those moments.

One of the best such moments I had last May. Shortly after moving into the house, we had a dual party. In the afternoon, my volleyball kids were over following the end of their season. That night, many of my best friends were over for what I believe to be a really classic party. There was nothing particularly special about the way we set it up, it was just cool having all of my peeps over. After everyone left, I had the feeling... the afterglow.

I've had it other times as well. The end of my wedding reception, the end of our first day in Hawaii are among the top moments. Sometimes it is after said cheeseball movies, sometimes after a volleyball tournament, a night at the bar or a really outstanding day at the amusement park.

A part of me wonders why we can't have more moments like that in life. Then I start to realize that if we had them all the time, they wouldn't be as special.

When I'm having a bad day, I try to think about those moments and feel good about them, knowing that more can't be that far off.

I mentioned our new animal, Luna C. Fuzzypants, in the last journal entry, but thought I'd revisit her with a few photos. First, the classic post-bath photo:

Next, Luna decides to get to know Cosmo B. Fuzzypants...

Don't be fooled... as cute as she is, she's a holy terror. Steph found out after reading up on kitten behaviour that their sleep cycles are much like those of human babies, in that it's generally not more than three or four hours at a time. She hasn't really bothered me, it's Steph that is missing all of the sleep.

Last couple of nights she has been better though. She's still not as independent as we'd like, and Cosmo finds her annoying, but I'm sure she'll fit in eventually.

In case you're wondering, the "B" is for "butt-licker" and the "C" is for "crusty-butt."

Every once in awhile in the past week or so I think of something to write about. With those thoughts being little more than, well, after-throughts, here's what I think I wanted to chat about.

First off, got a new kitten. Luna C. Fuzzypants is cat number two, but she acts like she fucking owns the place. It's pretty funny stuff, actually. Cosmo (the big sister) pretty much disregards her, and sadly doesn't show the little one who is boss. I wasn't sure I wanted another cat (in part I think because Steph's mom dumped her on us), but I'm glad we got her. Kittens are funny to watch.

Microsoft released Visual Studio.NET this week, and the press doesn't fucking have a clue why it's so cool or what Microsoft is trying to accomplish. They start talking shit about monopolies and other such unrelated nonsense. People would hate on Bill & Co. if they produced a cure for cancer. Anyway, this site runs on the .NET framework and CliqueSite (the app running the joint) was built entirely with Visual Studio, all in a relatively short time.

What happened to people being nicer since 9/11? I think that's over, because people are just all about being assholes lately. The worst offenders are online, especially the kids. No concept of the big picture or the world around them.

I'm digging That 80's Show, even though Chyler Leigh has the fucked up hair. She's still glasses/ponytail girl from Not Another Teen Movie as far as I'm concerned.

And while on the topic of hot celebrities, have you seen the Spideman trailer? Kirsten Dunst, red hair. That's all I'm saying.

And while rambling, there are two TV shows I'm addicted to: 24 and Alias. Both get better and better every week. While 24 lacks the vast array of outfits Jennifer Garner gets to wear on Alias, it's still pretty gripping. Good times, check them out.

The Chemical Brothers recently put out a new album, and thank God someone is still making good electronic music. I was starting to get worried. I'm still listening to Garbage and No Doubt frequently, as well as an odd need to hit the Stone Temple Pilots catalog.

OK, so none of what I just posted means anything important, and I used lots of four letter words, but hey, one must do that from time to time.

It really is easy to sit around and figure that the world is incredibly fucked up. This weekend I watched a fascinating show about how exactly the World Trade Center collapsed, and then saw the WTC flag brought in at the opening ceremony of the Olympics. It made me remember how screwed up things have been, and indeed the reason I'm unemployed right now.

Actually, a little reminder about what happened 9/11 isn't such a bad thing. Watching the US rebound, or even seeing determination to rebound, feels good. I know I need as many reasons as possible to feel good. I've been on the street for three months and it sucks.

Coaching volleyball has been a great distraction for me, thank God. The kids are really too busy to think too much about what happened. Despite dealing with the usual trauma of being a teenager (and remember that the trauma doesn't seem that trivial when you're in high school), they seem pretty well adjusted.

This weekend I had an experience with them that seemed to be a metaphor for the way life can go, if you make up your mind to make it happen. In our first tournament, we tanked all three of our pool play games. It was like they were abducted by aliens or something. Granted, I'd make the argument that we haven't had enough practice time, but this was sad.

After a break, we returned to the lower playoff bracket to see what we could make happen. What do you know, we won both games in grand style, beating the team we lost to the hardest in pool play (who oddly enough didn't make it into the upper bracket).

Despite three games that were painful to watch, they returned with their minds made up to not let mediocrity get the best of them. Three games of suckdom, two games a determined rebound.

Three months of suckdom, it's time to have my two months of determined rebound.